It wasn't water exactly! Xindii felt the hit, the coolness that came with it; the creeping cold of being submerged. But it was gossamer, a film like substance that seemed to hold him – for a moment – in a tranquil perpetuity.

He was carried in a bizarre undertow of cool air and seducing breeze, the polite wind tugging gently on the soft cotton of his suit, seeking entry, curious as to the origin of the interloper.

Xindii fell for an age. Or so it seemed. A black mass of nothing. Just wind and the cool brushing sensation that came with it.

'Bliss?'

There was no answer. There was no sound.

He then noticed a crack in the void! Not akin to that first momentary glance as dawn reared, a slight and paper thin cut in the canvas of night. But this was no welcome yellow that would potentially bring with it blue sky and white cloud. No, this was a deep crimson that was tearing the void asunder, spilling forth and consuming the darkness, billowing with a furious intensity.

'Xindii?'

'Bliss! Where the hell are you? Never mind. Stand fast. Concentrate. We have to get out.'

'No shit.'

'Mould the dark, Bliss.'

'What?'

'Mould the dark. This is empty dream space, the antithesis of dream. Use it. Gain a foothold.'

'Then what?'

'Just do it. We are tethered remember. I'll do the same and pass my scape along. Just like a phone call. Or a letter. We can build our escape. Now, concentrate.'

Xindii grabbed the dark with his hands, stretched out his arms and clasped the emptiness, held it until the dark itself became tangible; malleable to the point where Xindii could mould and create an escape. He held himself and stopped falling, the storks of the black wheat holding him. He was anchored now. All he had to do was pass his thought on. He extended his mind downward and was surprised to see Bliss forming her own scape. The two worlds then congealed, entwined with a bizarre hue of colour and shape; an amorphous concoction of Mapper and House.

Xindii pulled himself upright from the waving black wheat and looked around. He saw Bliss standing half a mile across the field, waving rather frantically. He started to run toward her, parting the black barley wheat with his hips, cutting a deeper gash of black into the temporary topography.

Bliss then started to run toward him and he noticed the black and slightly ominous mountain on the horizon, heaving and pulsing like a septic sore. Bliss then stopped dead in her tracks and looked beyond Xindii. He turned and noticed the turquoise sky was bleeding, red droplets of fog – tear like – pouring down to the fields in whirlwinds of hate.

'Whats the plan, Mapper?' Bliss asked.

'Stand fast. Do nothing.'

'What? Are you serious?'

'Quite. This is its domain. It won't matter how far we run.'

The black mountain burst, exploding in a fury of sickly yellow pus, hurling a thousand black specs across the terrain. Black specs that once awake and shaking off their slumber and the congealed mucus from the mountain scab, turned their attentions to the moving meat in the black fields.

The fog laughed as a thousand fleas fell from the sky, its children. Ravenous and eager to shred flesh.

'Xindii?' asked Bliss, ever so polite and scared.

'Stand fast,' he replied.

The fleas, the size of horses leapt through the air with a remarkable speed, each galvanising the other to the feast ahead, communicating in a combination of sickly chirps and ear piercing shrills.

'So little Mapper man, have you learned the error of your ways? My children grow hungry.'

'I must admit it is very impressive. We must surely be a hindrance to you?'

The fog swooned and enveloped the sky, victorious. 'I have infiltrated your dreams for millennia, sown my seed through the passing of my story. My eggs, lain dormant for too long. None of you can escape me. The telling of my fable will flower within everyone. I will be everyone.'

'A sentient race memory?'

'Oh much more than that. A story. A fable. I exist through you and the passing of my tale.'

'The Flea King. Hadigan brought you back from Mo'Katha?'

'My vanguard. My saviour.'

'He learned from you. Learned to live beyond his means?

'In return for my ascension.'

Xindii nodded vigorously. 'Right, thank you. That's enough to be getting on with.'

The fog pulled itself into the visage of the Mutter-Sloth and looked down at the Mapper. 'I do admire your pluck little Mapper man. You have been entertaining to say the least. But my children grow hungry.'

'You really are a pathetic entity aren't you? Do you really think for one minute your plan will succeed?

'Who are you to stand in my way?'

'I'm the only one. So you better stay put. You exist – I gather – in the mind of Gwendolyn Pendragon. I will arrest her and place her in Reverie'

'Do you suppose there is a Reverie that can contain me? Stupid little Mapper man.'

Bliss started to tear through the black barley, a lone finger stroking the black fur of a feral creature, gaping the wheat aside to reveal the bald pale surface from which the barley sprouted, as a moving and throbbing wall of fleas ate into the scape.

'Oh I'll devise something quite special for you don't you worry.'

The Mutter-Sloth's rictus grin spread across the skyline as Bliss roared up behind the Mapper.

'Such misplaced faith in something so miniscule. I am going to miss you.'

The Mapper smiled as the first edging fleas bit down into the hide of Bliss and she screamed. He didn't try to save her and accepted his fate as he stood proud in front of the visage of the Mutter-Sloth and held his hands high as a flea bit down on his skull with an almighty crack.